Twelve Acts of Christmas

By Jodee Steffensen

An old house on a cold night, at the end of a dark, lonely road, a single mom and her daughter, what could go wrong?
Inspired by a true story - but this one ends in romance.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jodee Steffensen
• Release date: Oct 31, 2016
• ISBN: 9781514105313

Jodee Steffensen

Jodee Steffensen has been a writer for as long as she can remember and received her first award for writing in the 8th grade. She has written in nearly all genres including novels, short stories, plays and screen plays. History is her favorite genre and especially loves the research that goes into a good historic story. She also loved being a reading teacher and many of her teen/young adult fiction is kid approved by actual students.

Book preview

ACT ONE

Sally slowed as she felt her car swerve around the corner and onto the narrow, icy lane. Huge puffy snowflakes glowed as they swirled in front of the headlights making it nearly impossible to see ahead. She squinted her eyes, looking for the edge of the path that would lead her home, carefully following the row of ancient spruce trees. She startled at the sound of impact as a limb buckled under the weight of the fresh snow, fell, and hit her car. It slid down the windshield, squeaking and scratching like a demonic claw scraping against a chalkboard. Back in October, when she’d first moved in, the isolation of living at the end of a tree-lined farm road seemed quaint and romantic. Now, on a cold winter’s night, it was long, dark, and positively creepy.

Sally let out a puff of air, relieved to see the light from the garage appear as the door opened. A flash of light in her rear view mirror caught her attention and she slowed. Were those car lights turning into the lane? Had she been followed? Whatever the light was, it instantly disappeared. She twisted around to look more closely out the back window and felt the familiar thudding of her heart kicking into high gear. How could she make anything out in such darkness?

There! Was it the shadow of a truck?

She sucked in a breath and drove into the garage, pressing the remote control without daring to breathe as the door slowly slid into place. Her eyes widened, searching for anything that was out of place. The door slammed shut and she sat still for a moment, her ears straining for sound.

Silence.

She released a long sigh and rubbed the base of her skull. Her headache was getting worse.

Shelby was waiting and would want to start fixing dinner. Sally reached for an armful of groceries and climbed out of the car. Another few steps and she’d be safely inside. She used her elbow to slam the car door shut, ignoring the twinge in her back as she twisted around the stack of still-unpacked-boxes. Maybe she’d get to sorting through them after the holidays. Maybe not. Right now all she wanted to do was get into the house and check the locks.

Clouds of labored breath followed behind her in the frozen air. Reported temperatures had fallen at least twenty degrees since yesterday and the arctic blast was expected to last through the night. No doubt Christmas was going to be South Pole freezing.

Head still pounding, she leaned against the utility door and felt it give way. She stepped inside and let the warmth envelop her.

Mom, you’re late, she heard her daughter call. Sally felt the beat of Gertie’s eager tail smack against her leg. Another step and the full weight of the dog smashed into her thigh, nearly knocking her over. One of the bags shifted precariously.

Shelby, can you please call Gertie? she pleaded.

Here, girl, she heard as Shelby complied. Come here, baby! Gertie sprang toward the voice she loved, eager for the treat Shelby always managed to find. The dog was supposed to be their defender and champion, but no one found the huge, gregarious red hound remotely scary. Still, Sally depended on her bark to warn them of danger.

Thanks, sweetheart, said Sally, as she entered the kitchen and saw Gertie bouncing around her daughter.

I’ll get the rest of the groceries, said Shelby, immediately heading for the garage.

No, I’ll get them later, said Sally, trying to sound nonchalant as she stepped aside to let the massive, wriggling dog race to the garage behind Shelby. She glanced toward the back door. Good, both locks were secure. She didn’t dare let her daughter know of her latest concern. Shelby would certainly accuse her of being...

Paranoid. Mom, you’re being paranoid again.

Sally looked at her daughter and shrugged. Just one more step to the counter. What makes you think that? she asked. One of the plastic bags began to give way. Don’t let it be the eggs! She lunged forward to reach the counter.

Too late. The bag tore open. Shelby dove in time to catch most of the falling items. In a coordinated effort, mother and daughter set all they could catch on the counter and Shelby bent down to retrieve a few rolling cans.

Sally took the opportunity to look toward the door in the front room.

Mom! Shelby rose and glared at her. The door’s locked. It’s fine. We’re fine. She put the cans on the counter. I’m going to get the rest of the groceries. She clapped her hands to entice Gertie to follow. Come on girl.

But I saw something... Sally protested. It was useless. Shelby was gone, along with Gertie.

Sally stepped into the living room. Shelby was right. She could see that all the locks were secure.

Got the last of it, announced Shelby as she re-entered the kitchen and dropped her load on the table. She began to empty the sacks.

Shhh, said Sally, and she and her daughter listened for a moment to the silence of the house. Gertie sat quietly.

Sally let out an anxious sigh.

All clear, Mom, said Shelby, groaning with the exaggerated patience of a fifteen year old.

Please don’t take that tone, said Sally and she pulled open the fridge door.

Mom, you don’t have to worry about every little sound. And there’s no more room in the fridge.

Sally felt her jaw tense as she peered into the overloaded refrigerator. Shelby was right. They never had the space they needed for the fresh produce Shelby insisted they maintain. Sally pulled out whatever could be tossed as Shelby stuffed in vegetables and meat. It was food enough for the week, which was good, since Sally worked most nights that week.

The retirement center, where she’d found a second job, needed help twenty-four seven and Sally had been put on the evening shift. The income would supplement the wages from her day job at a local store. They needed the money, but she hated the thought of leaving Shelby alone at night.

Once the groceries were put away, Shelby got busy preparing her latest creation. Her cooking class at school had ignited a passion that benefited both mother and daughter. Tonight’s dinner had something to do with brussel sprouts. Sally grimaced at the prospect. Preferring to let her daughter slice away, she sifted through the mail. Bills, bills and more bills. Sally paused when she saw the manila envelope from her mother. She opened it.

Anything interesting? asked Shelby, glancing up from her chopping.

Looks like a Christmas card from Aunt Maggie, Sally said, pocketing the letter from her mother. She’d read that later.

Cute. What’s it say?

Sally slipped her finger under the flap and tore open the bright red envelope. The card was colorful and sparkly, perfect to express the Christmas spirit Sally was not feeling. When would Christmas finally be joyful again?

She held it up to show Shelby, who grinned as she reached for it.

The doorbell rang and Sally jumped. Gertie’s barking echoed through the house and Shelby laughed as she set down the card.

Mom, it’s alright, she chided and walked toward the door with Gertie bouncing around her.

Don’t open it, Sally yelled above the sounds of the excited dog. She raced after her daughter.

I know, Shelby answered, exasperation evident in her voice. Keep the chain secure and look through the peep hole. I got it. She hushed the dog as she leaned her eye to the small opening.

Funny, she said.

Who’s there? asked Sally. A knot formed in her stomach and seemed to increase the thudding in her head.

No one, replied Shelby.

Don’t open the door.

Mom, I know, said Shelby. Gertie sniffed the door and Shelby pushed her back. Gertie tucked her tail around her legs as she sat. Shelby stepped to the picture window at the side and pulled back the curtains.

No one outside, she reported, shrugging and turning away to return to her work.

That’s very strange, said Sally, feeling the stomach knot tighten.

Probably just a prank. I’m sure it’s nothing, said Shelby. Back at the counter, she picked up the knife and began dicing mushrooms. Gertie doesn’t seem concerned.

Sally looked at the dog, wishing now they’d rescued a Doberman Pinscher.

The next seconds were filled with the sound of Shelby’s knife. Sally opened another envelope.

I can’t believe the heating bill is so high, she commented, hoping Shelby didn’t notice her shaking hands. How would she afford that new tablet Shelby had asked Santa for? With Christmas just fourteen days away, she needed to find both money and time to slip away. Too bad Santa didn’t deliver.

The doorbell rang again. Sally jumped. Gertie barked and bounded toward the door. Shelby groaned and set down her knife.

I’ll get it, said Sally, motioning for Shelby to return to her work. She walked toward the front room, stepped around the eager dog, and looked through the hole.

No one was there.

Now the anxious feeling exploded in the pit of Sally’s stomach and sent a surge of bile up her throat. Who’s doing this? She pushed aside the edge of the curtains and carefully looked out the window. The snow had stopped, and under the porch light Sally could make out fresh tracks leading down the steps. But again, no one was there.

Gertie sniffed at the door and then barked softly and whined. Dumb dog didn’t know danger when it arrived at the porch. Or did she? Why would someone ring the bell and disappear? To get someone to open the door and come out? Sally swallowed hard. Could it be Todd?

Panic seized her and she switched off the light on the porch. Quickly, she made her way through the house, moving from room to room until she’d turned off every single light in the house.

****

It’s gone dark. Why has it gone dark? Sam turned toward his son who looked back with the same confusion on his face that Sam felt. His son rubbed his hands together. It was freezing, even in the shelter of the cab of the truck.

Maybe the electricity went out, Chris offered.

That’s unlikely, said Sam. Besides, the street light’s still on.

Oh, yeah. And I can see the Johnson’s lights through the trees. Chris turned and looked at his father hopefully. Well, it is a pretty old house. Maybe they blew a main fuse.

They both studied the structure carefully. I don’t think so. All the lights would go off together. These lights went off one by one.

We can’t give up now, Dad.

Sam shrugged. Let’s just drive on up to the house.

No, they’ll see us and it won’t be anonymous anymore.

Sam pulled the lapels of his coat up around his neck. He loved this tradition as much as his son. It helped them remember Judy. But it was too cold to be playing this kind of game. Why didn’t they just open the door like everyone in the past had, and then he and Chris could go home. Now that he considered it, just going home was an excellent idea.

Maybe we should just go home, he offered. They’ll see the box eventually.

Mom always waited to see their reaction, remember? Besides, I’m using it in my report so I need to write about the results.

Great, now what? Sam considered the possibility that whoever they were might never open the door.

Did anything like this ever happen to you and Mom?

Nope. Never. Sam stared at the house looking for some kind of movement. Nothing.

Chris, how well do you know these people?

Not that well. Actually, I only know the girl. She’s in one of my classes at school.

She? asked Sam. That might explain his son’s insistence on staying. So, have I met her?

No. They just moved in last fall and she always goes straight home.

Sam let out a sigh. It’s getting late, buddy. If we wait much longer we’ll be a couple of human popsicles.

Let me try to ring the bell one more time. You’d think they’d at least be getting curious.

Before Sam could say anything, Chris opened the passenger door, jumped into the snow, and sprinted toward the door.

****

Mom! said Shelby, dropping the knife onto the counter.

Shhhhh.

Why did you turn off the lights? How am I supposed to fix dinner in the dark? Shelby made her way forward toward the switch, but her mother grabbed her hand before she could reach it.

We need to make them think we’re not home, her mother hissed.

Shelby sighed deeply. This is now officially insane.

Maybe they’ll go away if they see a dark house.

Mom, that’s crazy. They know we’re in here. Turning the lights out isn’t going to convince them we’re not home.

Maybe they’ll think we’ve gone to bed.

It’s barely seven o’clock. Who goes to bed at seven o’clock? Shelby reached for the light switch again, but her mother held her wrist and refused to let her touch it. Mom, stop it!

It could be anyone out there! Someone obviously wants us to open the door and let them in.

We don’t know it’s someone bad.

Then why do they just ring the doorbell and disappear? Why don’t they stay on the porch so we can see them?

Like I said, probably just a prank, said Shelby. Can’t we just open the door a crack...? Shelby reached for the doorknob when she felt her mother’s arms wrap around her and pull her down against the sofa.

Mom!

Shhhh.

The doorbell rang again, Gertie barked loudly and both women screamed. The faint shadow of a head popped up to look in the window. Shelby’s mother pulled her closer and they held their breaths.

See, her mother hissed into Shelby’s ear. That’s definitely a man and he’s not going away.

Shelby kept her eyes on the window. Whatever man it was, he seemed a very skinny one. Not very threatening, really.

I’m calling the police! said her mother, suddenly letting Shelby go and rising from the couch.

Mom!

****

Chris couldn’t see anything through the window, but he heard the scream. He ran as fast as he could, stumbling through the deep snow. His lungs burned as he fought to get to the truck. When at last he reached the handle, he pulled at it with all his strength and lunged forward.

Alright, that’s it. Two more minutes and we’re going home, his dad was saying as Chris scrambled back into the shelter of the cab.

Dad, I heard them scream! Chris slammed the door shut and looked at his father, his chest heaving. Maybe something’s wrong. We should go in.

Screaming? Are you sure?

Chris nodded. He looked at his father. His father stared back. What the... His dad reached for the handle. Okay, I’ll go in. But you stay here.

No way! Chris pulled at the handle on his side of the truck.

Yes, way. What if it’s something serious?

Dad, I’m almost sixteen. I’ll be fine! Chris began as he dropped himself back into the snow.

You’re only fifteen, young man, and you’ll do as I say... his father was yelling, and then stopped. Do you hear that?

Sirens?

I told you I heard screaming.

His father shushed him as he cocked his head toward the noise.

How could they be here so soon? They’re probably heading to an accident or something. They both strained to see around the trees that blocked the view of the neighborhood street.

Dad, we need to hurry.

Chris looked toward the house, which was now dark and spooky. He swallowed and felt his Adam’s apple press hard against his throat. He took a few steps forward to catch up with his father.

The sound of sirens grew louder.

Maybe there’s an accident somewhere in the subdivision, said his father between heaving breaths. I think they’re coming closer.

Head lights appeared and a police car turned onto the narrow track. It stopped just behind the truck. Instantly, they were surrounded by an intensely bright light. Chris could make out two officers jumping out. They pulled out their guns and took aim at Chris and his dad.

What the... his father didn’t have a chance to say anything else. The officers were already charging toward them, weapons steadily poised to shoot.

Stop immediately and put up your hands, both of you!

Adrenaline surged through his body as Chris raised his hands into the air. The officers were on them in seconds. One grabbed his father’s hand and spun him around while the second secured Chris, pressing his arms painfully against his sides. Chris heard the snap of handcuffs.

What’s going on? Chris heard his father begin to protest.

We got a call that there’s an intruder here, the other officer said. The second officer, the one who was patting Chris down, stepped back and spoke into a microphone located on his shoulder. Two suspects apprehended.

Suspects? Apprehended?

We didn’t do anything, Chris sputtered. I’m just working on a report.

We’re innocent, he heard his father try to explain. My son has a project for school.

Thoroughly humiliated by the man-handling, Chris felt his knees begin to shake as he stood by his father. He winced as flashlights shown into their faces.

We got a call from a woman who said she was being stalked.

Stalked? said Chris’s father. We were just delivering a box.

What kind of box?

A Christmas box, said Chris. It’s over there. He tried to indicate its location, managing only to bend his elbow toward the house.

A Christmas box. The officer repeated. He sounded skeptical.

The porch! It’s on the porch. You can go check it out, gasped Chris, struggling to take in a full chest of air. His ribs